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PATRIOTIC STORIES 




Fourth of July Fun 



















PATRIOTIC STORIES 


Edited By 

W. Montgomery Major 

n 



Fully Illustrated in Color 

Cover Drawing 
By Elizabeth M. Fisher 


Albert Whitman & Company 

Publishers 


CHICAGO 


U. S. A. 









FLAG OF OUR HEARTS 
Copyright 1927 

By Albert Whitman & Company 

PATRIOTIC STORIES 
Copyright September 1933 


fi 

lit 



tU 





MADE IN THE U. S. A. 

MAY li.i 1936 




vO 

CO 







ACKNOWLEDGMENT 

We wish to extend our thanks to the “Jusrt Right” authors and 
artists for the contents appearing in this book of patriotic stories 
as follows: 

To Authors: Carolyn Sherwin Bailey, Clara J. Denton, Dorothy 
Amo Baldwin, Edna Groff Deihl, Lena C. Ahlers, Laura Rountree 
Smith, Ida C. Mirriam. 

To Artists: Sarah K. Smith, Frances Kerr Cook, Sue Seeley, 
Marjorie Howe Dixon, Helen Lyon, Uldene Trippe, Genevieve 
Fusch Samsel, Joseph E. Dash, Cobb X. Shinn, Jean Van Cleve. 

At the end of each story the reader will note that the story has 
been selected from one of our own Just Right Books. The title 
and author are named. 

—The Editor. 



5 





STAR-SPANGLED BANNER 

Oh, say can you see, by the dawn’s early light, 

What so proudly we hailed at the twilight’s last gleaming? 
Whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous fight. 
O’er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming? 
And the rockets’ red glare, the bombs bursting in air, 

Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there: 

Oh, say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave 
O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave? 

On the shore, dimly seen through the mists of the deep. 

Where the foe’s haughty host in dread silence reposes. 

What is that which the breeze, o’er the towering steep, 

As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses ? 

Now it catches the gleam of the morning’s first beam; 

In full glory reflected, now shines on the stream: 

’Tis the star-spangled banner; oh, long may it wave 
O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave! 


6 


And where is the band who so vauntingly swore, 

’Mid the havoc of war and the battle’s confusion, 

A home and a country they’d leave us no more? 

Their blood hath washed out their foul footsteps’ polution: 
No refuge could save the hireling and slave 
From the terror of flight, or the gloom of the grave; 

And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave 
O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave. 

Oh, thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand 

Between their loved homes and the war’s desolation! 

Blest with victory and peace, may the Heaven-rescued land 

Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation. 
Then conquer we must, for our cause it is just; 

And this be our motto, “In God is our trust;” 

And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave 
O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave. 

—Francis Scott Key. 



7 

















































The Life of 

FRANCIS SCOTT KEY 

JVERY evening at flag lowering time the “Star- 
Spangled Banner” is played in every American 
fort and garrison and on every American bat¬ 
tleship throughout the world. Could anyone ask for a 
more loving and appropriate monument than has been 
dedicated to the memory of Francis Scott Key, the 
author of these patriotic words? 

Francis Scott Key was bom on August 9, 1780, in 
Frederick County, Maryland. His parents were of good 
birth and culture, and were true Christians. 


9 






10 


It is said that Francis was not a pretty baby, nor 
in after years did he possess great personal charm, but 
he was endowed with a far greater gift. He became the 
possessor of a noble character, with which training made 
him grow into a respected, loving and lovable man, who 
always had a good reputation. 

After finishing his common school education Francis 
was sent to Saint John’s College at Annapolis, where 
he first became interested in literature, and commenced 
writing poems. He graduated from law school and 
began its practice in his home town in 1801. Because of 
his diligence and perseverance he rose in a short time to 
the position of district attorney of the District of 
Columbia. This position he held for many years. 

After the burning of Washington by the British in 
1814, Doctor William Beams, one of Key’s friends, 
put three British refugees in jail. He was quickly 
arrested by English soldiers and taken aboard an Eng¬ 
lish warship. John S. Skinner, a friend of Beams, and 
Francis Scott Key were permitted by Secretary of the 
State, James Monroe, to intercede for the doctor. The 
two Americans boarded the vessel just as it was pre¬ 
paring to bombard Fort McHenry. 

The British officer agreed to release Doctor Beams, 
but refused to let Key and his companion leave the 
vessel till after the battle, fearing they might have dis¬ 
covered their plans and would tell them. The bombard¬ 
ment began early in the morning of September 13,1814, 



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Taken Aboard an English Warship 









































12 

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and continued during all the day and night. Key and 
Skinner, who knew the strength of the fort, feared it 
would not survive the attack. All night, in terrible 
anguish, they paced up and down the deck, hoping and 
praying the fort could hold out. Key’s brother-in-law 
was one of the commanders at the Fort, and beside fear¬ 
ing the loss of the fort, the young man knew if it fell 
his relative would be taken captive. 

Slowly the dawn of the morning came, but the dis¬ 
tance between the fort and the ship was filled with fog 
and smoke. Nothing could be seen. Skinner and Key 
tried again and again to see through the mist, but were 
unsuccessful. Then at seven o’clock a rift appeared in 
the density of the veil, and it grew wider and wider. 
Eagerly the two Americans watched, and then shouted 
with joy when they saw the fragments of a flag still 
proudly floating over the battered fort. These tatters 
are still kept as an historic relic. 

Thrilled and inspired by the sight, Key thrust his 
hand into his pocket and brought out an unfinished 
letter, and on the back of it he wrote the most of the 
words of the “Star-Spangled Banner.” He finished it 
that night in a hotel in Baltimore, and showed it to his 
brother-in-law. He became enthusiastic over it, and 
took it the next morning to a printer, who printed it on 
hand bills. That day they were distributed through the 
fort, and it was sung to the tune of an old English drink¬ 
ing song, “Amacreon in Heaven.” A few days later an 




13 


actor sang it in public in Baltimore, and it immediately 
became popular. Shortly afterward it was played at the 
Battle of New Orleans. It is commonly thought that, 
if the British had not bombarded the fort, Key would 
never have been inspired to write his famous song. Mr. 
Key died January 11, 1843, and is buried beside his 
wife at Frederick, Maryland. The United States keeps 
a flag continually floating over the two graves, and every 
Memorial Day a new one is raised with solemn cere¬ 
mony. The first monument erected to Key’s memory 
is in San Francisco, and it looks out over the broad 
waters of the Pacific Ocean. 

Lena C. Ahlers. 






CONTENTS 

Page 


Star-Spangled Banner, Francis Scott Key . 6 

Life of Francis Scott Key, Lena C. Ahlers . 9 

Flag of Our Hearts, Clara J. Denton . 17 

What the Flag Said, Carolyn Sherwin Bailey . 18 

The Concord Hymn, Ralph Waldo Emerson . 27 

The Fireworks Tree, Clara J. Denton . 28 

Hurrah For The Flag, Carolyn Sherwin Bailey . 30 

The Parade in the City of Somewhere, Dorothy Amo Baldwin . 36 

The Cornflower’s Message, Edna Groff Delhi . 45 

Lincoln’s Address At Gettysburg, Abraham Lincoln . 51 


14 













CONTENTS—Continued 

Page 

The Fourth of July Tent, Carolyn Sherwin Bailey . 52 

The Firecracker That Went Off, Carolyn Sherwin Bailey . ... 58 

The Man Who Knew Lincoln, Carolyn Sherwin Bailey . 66 

A Little History of Washington, Ida C. Mirriam . 73 

The Boy Who Did Not Know The Flag, 

Carolyn Sherwin Bailey . 83 

The Sword’s Story, Carolyn Sherwin Bailey . 90 

The Stay-At-Home Soldier, Carolyn Sherwin Bailey . 96 

Franz’ Last Lesson, Carolyn Sherwin Bailey .103 

Paul Revere, American Patriot, Lena C. Ablers .109 

Making a Flag Game, Carolyn Sherwin Bailey .116 

Playing America First, Carolyn Sherwin Bailey .119 

Fourth of July Fun, Carolyn Sherwin Bailey .122 

A Fourth of July Party, Laura Rountree Smith .125 



15 















Flag of Our Hearts Is Waving High 












FLAG OF OUR HEARTS 

Flag of our hearts is waving high, 

From sea to sea it cheers the eye, 

Though stretches wide this goodly land, 
Beneath its folds all safely stand. 

May we this dear old flag so prize, 

That evermore our prayers may rise. 

Oh! may it stand for all things pure, 

And ever keep the truth secure. 

Then lift the hand and bow the head, 

While words of loyal love are said 
And may there never hand be found 
To trail its glory on the ground. 

Be this its mission evermore, 

To spread sweet peace from shore to shore, 
Then bow the head and lift the hand. 

While neath its folds secure we stand. 

From “Denton’s New Program Book” — Clara J. Denton. 


17 



WHAT THE FLAG SAID 

Wayne crept softly through the hedge that 
separated his garden from that of his neigh¬ 
bors, Helen and Bob. He knew that the 
brother and sister had gone in to town to 
buy some red, white and blue bunting for 
trimming their piazza. Flag Day was com¬ 
ing tomorrow and all the houses and piazzas 
in Elmhurst would be decorated. Already 
there was a large flag hung from Bob’s piazza 
pillars that was like a curtain. One could 
not see behind it. 

Wayne thought that was a good thing, 
18 




19 


for he did not want to be seen. He was 
going over secretly to look at his neighbor’s 
sand pile to see how Bob and Helen had ar¬ 
ranged the sand for Flag Day. His was 
not fixed yet and he thought that he would 
try and get an idea for it from his neighbors. 
Bob and Helen had fine ideas about making 
things for their play, almost better than any 
of the other children. 

There was a contest among the children of 
that part of Elmhurst. They were trying to 
see who could plan the best kind of play for 
Flag Day and a committee made up of Bob, 
Bruce Watson and Tommy Joyce was to 
judge the contest. They would decide on the 
afternoon of Flag Day, after all the plans 
and games and sand-pile plays had been seen 
and tried out, which child had kept Flag Day 
best. This was going to be fun. No Flag 
Day had ever been kept so well in Elmhurst 
before by the children. 

Wayne had looked through the dictionary 




20 


for colored pictures of flags and had made 
some of heavy paper, colored with his crayons. 
These he had pinned up on his back fence and 
he was going to let each child, blind-folded, 
walk up to the fence and try to touch the Stars 
and Stripes, just by remembering where our 
flag was placed among the others. 

But Bob and Helen had been secretly busy 
for almost a week now, and Wayne felt sure 
that they had been getting ready to win the 
prize of an Uncle Sam suit which Tommy’s 
father, who had the Elmhurst store, had of¬ 
fered for the Flag Day contest. Surely, 
Wayne thought, if no one was at home at 
Bob’s house, he might be able to look at the 
sand box and copy the village in it for his 
own. He had more blocks than Bob and 
Helen and a larger sand pile. 

Wayne crept stealthily along by the house 
and to the place on the wide front lawn where, 
under a tent, was Helen and Bob’s sand 
pile. The day was so quiet that Wayne 






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^4 Committee Was Made Up 












































































22 


jumped when a saucy bird scolded at him 
from an apple tree. But he soon forgot 
everything save the wonder of the Flag Day 
sand camp the children had made. It was 
an idea! 

There were little white paper tents with a 
red, white and blue tissue paper flag flying 
from each. Helen must have made the flags. 
And the toy soldiers were just clothespins 
with uniforms painted on them and wearing 
gay caps with plumes of fringed paper. These 
soldiers stood up and paraded very well in 
the sand which Bob had smoothed and packed 
neatly into a parade ground. The small sand 
pile camp was a copy of the soldiers’ encamp¬ 
ment outside of Elmhurst. 

“But I can copy this,” Wayne thought to 
himself. “I can copy it so that Bob and Helen 
will not recognize it, but I can make it larger 
and better by using my toy soldiers and real 
little flags. I may win the prize and no one 
will know—” 




23 



But Wayne was suddenly surprised. What 
was that? No wind was blowing, for the day 
was as still as June can be. Not even the 
petals of the roses stirred. But the large flag 
on Bob’s piazza stirred. Indeed it billowed 
out toward Wayne as if someone were behind 
and pushing it. Wayne just stood and looked 
at it. Yes, the flag was moving. Then it 
spoke. The flag spoke with a strange voice, 
a voice that Wayne had never heard, spoke 
very plainly and clearly. It was the flag’s 
message. 

“A banner to them that fear thee, displayed 





24 


because of the truth!” Those were the words 
spoken by the flag’s voice. 

Wayne was not a coward, but he did make 
haste as he went home. And he decided, 
thinking over the message of the flag, not to 
be a copy-cat and try for a prize by imitating 
his neighbors. Our flag, our American flag, 
the little boy thought, was hung for the truth 
and honesty of every American, even the 
children. How strange about the flag next 
door, though, that had moved and spoken 
alone! 

It happened that Wayne won the prize of 
the Uncle Sam suit on Flag Day, because the 
children had so much fun playing the flag 
game in his back yard. He dressed up in it 
and they all had ice cream and cake on Bob’s 
lawn. Just before the feast, the large flag 
moved again and out from behind it came 
a strange boy. He was dressed like a soldier 
of the Revolutionary War and he recited as 
he touched the folds of Old Glory. 











26 


“A banner to them that fear thee, displayed 
because of the truth.” 

Wayne looked surprised again, but Helen 
explained to him. “That is our cousin from 
the city. He came yesterday to spend the 
holiday with us and I guess he must have 
practiced that recitation when he was alone 
here and we were in the city. He wanted to 
do something to surprise us for today.” 

“Oh,” was all that Wayne said, but he 
thought very hard. What difference did it 
make if it were a boy or just a voice from 
behind the stars of the flag that he had heard? 
He knew it had been the voice of Old Glory, 
a message of honesty and truth, and he was 
an American boy who was never going to 
forget it. 


From “Wonderful Tree” 


—Carolyn Sherwin Bailey. 



CONCORD HYMN 


By the rude bridge that arched the flood, 

Their flag to April’s breeze unfurled, 

Here once the embattled farmers stood, 

And fired the shot heard round the world. 

The foe long since in silence slept; 

Alike the conqueror silent sleeps; 

And Time the ruined bridge has swept 

Down the dark stream which seaward creeps. 

On this green bank, by this soft stream, 

We set today a votive stone; 

That memory may their deed redeem, 

When, like our sires, our sons are gone. 

Spirit, that made those heroes dare 
To die, and leave their children free, 

Bid Time and Nature gently spare 
The shaft we raise to them and thee. 

Ralph Waldo Emerson. 


27 


THE FIREWORKS TREE 


A queer little Toodlums came one Fourth 
Out of the forest hard by, 

He carried a great, big, leather gun 
Pointing right up to the sky. 

He said, “I will shoot some poor, dead thing 
With my great, big, leather gun, 

This is the Fourth, I must make a noise 
Before the long day is done.” 

Just then drew near a pretty Tehee, 
A-singing so loud and clear, 

4 ‘I’m trying to find the Fireworks tree, 

I heard that it grew down here.” 

The Toodlums said, “With you I will go 
Afar on this happy quest, 

For if we can find a Fireworks tree. 

Nothing I care for the rest.” 


28 


miiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit 


29 


“For a Fireworks tree will help us keep 
In old-fashioned style the Fourth,” 

But they didn’t find it, tho I’ve heard 
They hunted from south to north. 

From South to North and from East to West, 
Through days that were hot and cold, 

Yet not a trace of the Fireworks tree, 

Did their weary eyes behold. 

But if some day they really should find 
A rousing big Fireworks tree, 

With crackers and rockets and the rest, 

May we all be there to see. 

From “Denton’s New Program Book” — Clara J. Denton-. 





HURRAH FOR THE FLAG! 

The Firecracker was talking to himself in 
his place in the window of the toy shop. We 
would not have been able to catch what he 
was saying, for he spoke in Chinese, and his 
voice was choked with powder and sputtery 
like fireworks. But the others beside him there 
understood. 

“He says that this is his great day, the. 
Fourth of July,” said the wooden soldier. “He 
says he will be bought and set off and very 
likely he will burn the boy who lights him.” 


30 




31 



The Others Beside Him Understood 


Jack-in-the-Box laughed. That seemed 
funny to Jack, for he liked to scare children. 
He had an odd idea of what was amusing and 
pleasant to do. “Ha-ha!” chuckled Jack, 
leaning far out of his box so as to see the Fire¬ 
cracker better. “I have no doubt but what he 
will burn several children. See how large he 
is and what a long tail he wears. Ha-ha!” 

Now the Noah’s ark opened and several of 
the animals looked out. “It would be safer for 
a boy to take a voyage with us on the Fourth 
of July,” they said, “than to buy a firecracker 
that can only make a noise and hurt him and 
his friends. Only think of all the great men 




32 


who served their country by sailing in ships 
over the sea, Columbus, and the rest.” 

“Quack, quack!” said the toy duck on 
wheels. “You are right, but you must remem¬ 
ber that you can only talk about history. You 
can not really sail. You would spring a leak.” 
Which was true, and the animals drew their 
heads inside the ark and said nothing more. 

But the toy puppy looked at the Firecracker 
with big scared eyes. He stood so near that 
the Firecracker’s long tail, braided like a 
Chinaman’s queue, touched him. “I have seen 
dogs running through the street with fire¬ 
crackers tied to their tails,” he said in his small 
voice. At that the Firecracker spoke proudly. 

“That is nothing to what my family can 
do!” he boasted in Chinese. “Look at my 
splendid red coat and my height and my 
width! All inside of me is powder! If I am 
set off under a tin pan I will be able to shoot 
the pan higher than this window. I can 



33 


frighten a horse so that he will run away. I 
can make enough noise to wake all the babies 
on the block. I can hurt a boy so he won’t be 
able to play for a long time!” It was dread¬ 
ful to listen to the Firecracker, and as he 
talked he made crackling sounds inside, in his 
powder, as if he were going off all by himself 
there in the window of the toy shop. But this 
did not happen then. 

It was going to come off soon, though, the 
toys knew, for down the street came a Boy. 

His cheeks were rosy and his eyes bright 
for the holiday. His little dog ran barking by 
his side. Now he was almost to the toy shop. 
Now he had come in, and he was taking his 
money from his pocket. The Firecracker stood 
waiting there proudly in his red coat. This, he 
knew, was his day. The Fourth of July was 
the day of powder, burns and noise. 

But how strange! The Boy did not buy 
the Firecracker. He did not even look at it. 



34 


Instead he bought with his holiday money a 
red, white and blue flag with stars. It was the 
Boy’s own flag, the Stars and Stripes of his 
country. He went out of the toy shop wav¬ 
ing the flag and shouting, “Hurrah for the 
Flag!” as he ran along the street. The Fire¬ 
cracker was left alone. 

The toys did not know what to think of 
this. At last the youngest doll spoke. “They 
keep the Fourth of July with flags now,” she 
said. “They have a parade and wave the flags 
as it marches by. Of course you didn’t know 
that, you are all such old residents of the toy 
shop. But I am new. I keep up with the 
times. I know how much more sensible the 
children are now than they were when that 
old Firecracker was made.” 

“Ha-ha!” laughed the Jack-in-the-Box, who 
did not care whom he made fun of so long as he 
had a chance to chuckle at a joke. 

“Well, we live in the ark, but we said that 



35 


Firecracker did not know how to keep a holi¬ 
day,” said the animals, poking out their heads 
again. 

And the Firecracker had not a word to say 
for himself. He stood up in his red coat in the 
front of the toy shop window, but the toy 
puppy played with his tail and after a while 
he fell down on his side. No one ever bought 
him. He never had a chance to do any child 
a bit of harm. 

From “Lincoln Time Stories” —Carolyn S her win Bailey. 







THE PARADE IN THE CITY OF 
SOMEWHERE 

The trouble in the City of Somewhere be¬ 
gan with a wrinkled-up nose—Leonora’s nose. 
If no one had seen her wrinkle it, it wouldn’t 
have mattered so much, but, unfortunately, 
she wrinkled it at Guy; so, of course, he 
wrinkled his nose at her. 

At that moment Robin came running down 
the street, and he saw the two noses all out 
of kilter. 


36 




37 



All the Boy8 and Girls in Somewhere 
Were Making Up Faces Everytime They 
Met Each Other. 

“Whew! What faces!” he said. “I wonder 
if I can make as good a one.” 

Robin tried, and he succeeded so well that 
Guy thought he had better try again him¬ 
self ; and Leonora, not wanting to be left out, 
screwed her face into a tangle, too. 






38 


No one knows just how it came about, but 
by the next week all the boys and girls in 
Somewhere were making up faces every time 
they met each other, and a great many other 
times as well. All through the winter and 
spring they practiced to see who could make 
up the ugliest face. 

One day the Mayor called the inhabitants of 
the city to a meeting to make plans for cele¬ 
brating the Fourth of July. The Mayor him¬ 
self made a speech, and so did the Bishop, and 
the Superintendent of Schools and one or two 
other important officials. 

It was voted to have a wonderful parade in 
which every boy and girl in the city should 
march. The procession was to be headed by 
one of the girls dressed as Columbia, and every 
one in it was to carry a flag. A committee was 
appointed to train them to march properly, 
and a judge from a far-away city was to choose 
the one who should represent Columbia. 



The first rehearsal was held the very next 
day, and everyone got there early. The Judge 
was already on the platform when the boys 
and girls filed into the hall to stand in line be¬ 
fore him. He spoke a few pleasant words to 
them, reminding them what an honor it was 
to carry the American flag in a Fourth of July 
parade, and especially to take the part of 
Columbia, who represented America herself. 
After that, the Judge put on his spectacles 
and looked at the first girl in line, then at the 
second and the third and the fourth. The 
farther he looked down the line, the more sur¬ 
prised he appeared to be. 

“Dear me!” he exclaimed, when he had 
looked at every girl. “What has happened to 
twist the faces of these girls all out of shape? 
And the boys’ faces, too? Why—I don’t like 
to say it— but really they look more like lit¬ 
tle monkeys than they do like boys and girls.” 

The Chairman of the Committee came for¬ 
ward and put on his spectacles. 



40 


“Why, so they do!” he agreed. “That is too 
bad! It would never do to have a parade of 
little monkeys to carry the flags on the Fourth 
of July, and there’s not a single one here that’s 
fit to represent Columbia. We can’t have a 
parade, after all.” 

The Chairman looked very sad, and so did 
the Judge, and so did the boys and girls, and 
so did all the people in the city when they 
heard that there couldn’t be any Fourth of 
July parade. 

“I don’t believe I look so ugly,” pouted 
Leonora, as she hurried home. She ran 
straight to her mirror, and she was surprised 
when she saw her face in the glass. 

Her mouth was twisted into a pucker and 
her nose was all crinkly. One eyebrow pointed 
up and one pointed down, and her forehead 
was quite askew. She tried to smile, but her 
face was so much more used to screwing up 
that it was some time before she could man- 



41 


age to make a nice, even smile. At last she 
succeeded, and when she saw how much bet¬ 
ter it made her look, a wonderful idea popped 
into her head. She rushed out of the house and 
hunted up the other boys and girls to tell 
them her plan. 

The next afternoon the Mayor was sur¬ 
prised to hear a knock on his door, and when 
it was opened a long line of boys and girls 
marched into the room. In an armchair by 
the Mayor’s desk sat the Judge from the far¬ 
away city. 

‘ What fine-looking boys and girls!” he re¬ 
marked, after the Mayor had greeted them. 
“What a pity that they don’t belong in this 
city!” 

“But we do!” cried Lenora. “We’re the 
very same ones that you saw yesterday.” 

“Can it be possible?” exclaimed the Judge. 
“Why, then we can have the parade.” 



42 



'We’re the Very Same Ones You 
Saw Yesterday” 


“Hurrah!” cheered Guy, forgetting where 
he was. “Leonora ought to be Columbia be¬ 
cause she made us practice smiling until we 
got our faces smooth.” 

“I wrinkled my nose first,” confessed Leon¬ 
ora. 

“But now you’re leading the right way. I 
think you’re the very one to be Columbia,” 
declared the Judge. 









Vc. 



















44 

fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimiiiiiiiiitiiifiiiitiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiittitiiiiitiimmiiiiiiiiitimiiitiiiitiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitiiitiiitiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitiiiiiiiiiiitiiiiiiiiiiiii 

That parade was the best ever seen in the 
City of Somewhere. 

From “Today’s Stories of Yesterday” — Dorothy Arno Baldwin. 






THE CORNFLOWER S MESSAGE 

Once upon a time a great many flowers 
lived in a beautiful green field. There were 
the Daisies, dear little white-gowned chil¬ 
dren, wearing quaint yellow caps on their 
heads. There were hundreds of yellow 
Buttercups, nodding their curls in the sun¬ 
light. There were the Wild Grasses, in 
their many shades of green, and there were 
the Cornflowers, wearing their dainty blue 
gowns. 


45 














46 


There in the field they dwelt, in quiet and 
happiness, waving happily through the sunny 
days, and sleeping through the starry nights. 

One morning they awoke to find that 
their quiet home was being upset. They 
heard a noise of tramping feet, and saw 
people carrying baskets. There was shout¬ 
ing and running and jumping. 

“What is happening?” asked Daisy. 

“It’s a picnic,” answered Buttercup. 

“Oh, then we must look pretty,” said 
Daisy. “The little children will want to 
play with us.” 

Although Daisy looked very neat in her 
beautiful white dress, and Buttercup tossed 
her golden curls saucily all day long, not a 
child came near to play with them, or pick 
them. 

How badly they felt when they found out 
that the children did not want to play with 
them. Worst of all, some of them were even 




47 


trampled under foot, and their peaceful 
home was turned into a regular battleground. 
The air smelled of smoke, and was full of 
loud noises. Toward evening, when the 
children started to go home, the flowers saw 
that many of the little boys and girls were 
hurt and crying. 

“This is surely a queer sort of holiday,” said 
Cornflower. “Will you tell me who all these 
foreign looking red creatures are that the peo¬ 
ple have thrown among us. They look likq 
red Chinamen with their long pigtails, and 
they are lying all over our field. What a noise 
they made, like little claps of thunder. Who 
are these funny creatures?” 

No flower could answer her question, until 
Red Clover saw one little red fellow lying 
right near her, and asked the red stranger 
what it was all about. 

“Little red man, tell me who you are, and 
why did the little boys and girls bring you 
and your brothers here today?” 




48 


It was a tired voice that answered her. “We 
are the Firecracker family. My name is 
Noisy. The American people celebrate their 
Fourth of July with us. They use us by the 
millions, and, worst of all, many folks let the 
little children play with us, and many of my 
brothers are very dangerous, and they hurt 
and burn the little boys and girls. Don’t you 
think that is a queer way to celebrate a holi¬ 
day?” 

“It is, indeed,” answered Red Clover. “It 
is a queer way for them to celebrate the day 
when their great-great-grandfathers signed 
the Declaration of Independence, which made 
all Americans free.” 

Here Cornflower spoke up. “The trouble 
is,” she said, “that they have the wrong idea 
of independence. They think freedom means 
that they may do anything they please, but 
true liberty really means that each one may 
do anything he or she pleases, if it doesn’t 
hurt anyone. Let me tell you, dear Flowers, 



49 



what I think we can do. Let us try to teach 
these people the real meaning of freedom— 
the happiness and joy of being gentle and 
thoughtful of others, and being careful not to 
do anything which might hurt anybody, not 
even one’s self. 

“Have you ever thought that we flowers 
have different colors, and that between us 
we have colors enough to form a beautiful 
American flag, which we can spread ever so 
gayly over our field? Then people may 
notice our gentle way of celebrating the 
Fourth of July, and start to copy it. If you 

4 




50 


will all do your part, we will send them a 
message about a safe and sane Fourth of 
July for next year—a Fourth of July when 
there will be beauty and quiet instead of 
noise and danger.” 

“We will be glad to do our part,” said all the 
Flowers. 

“Very well,” said Cornflower, “I’ll give my 
blue for the comer of the flag. And the 
Cloverblossoms will give their red for the 
stripes of red, and the Daisies will give their 
white for the stripes of white, and also for 
the stars in the blue comer of the flag. Then, 
when it is all ready, the breezes will help 
us wave our beautiful flower flag so gayly 
that the people must see and understand our 
message. All the breezes will carry it to their 
hearts, and when they do understand, what a 
beautiful Fourth of July everybody will 
have!” 


From “Three Books” 


—Edna Groff Deihl. 




LINCOLN S ADDRESS AT 
GETTYSBURG 

Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this 
continent a new nation, conceived in liberty and dedicated to the 
proposition that all men are created equal. 

Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that 
nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated can long endure. 
We are met on a great battlefield of that war. We have come to 
dedicate a portion of that field as a final resting place for those 
who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether 
fitting and proper that we should do this. 

But, in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate, we cannot consecrate, 
we cannot hallow this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who 
struggled here, have consecrated it far above our poor power to add 
or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember, what we 
say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us, 
the living, rather to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which 
they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather 
for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us: 
that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that 
cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion; that 
we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain; 
that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom, and 
that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall 
not perish from the earth. 

Abraham Lincoln. 


51 



THE FOURTH OF JULY TENT 

There it stood, a beautiful surprise on the 
morning of the Fourth of July! Billy and 
Betty had not expected anything so nice or so 
unusual. It was a fine, large, khaki colored 
tent set up magically the evening before in 
the shady part of their yard by father. 

“Oh,” exclaimed Betty, “what a splendid 
place for shooting off torpedoes!” 


52 



53 


And, “Oh,” said Billy, “what a great place 
to send off firecrackers!” 

So, right after breakfast on the morning 
of the Fourth of July, Betty and Billy went 
down town to Mr. Brewster’s general store 
and Betty said to Mr. Brewster, “Ten cents 
worth of torpedoes, please!” And Billy said 
to Mr. Brewster, “Fifteen cents worth of fire¬ 
crackers, please!” 

But Mr. Brewster just looked at these two 
children over his spectacles and shook his 
head. “Nobody is buying torpedoes and fire¬ 
crackers this year,” he told them. “No chil¬ 
dren in our town are going to set off fire¬ 
works this year.” 

That settled it, because their town had de¬ 
cided that fireworks for boys and girls were 
not safe. So Billy and Betty went home and 
tried to decide upon something pleasant and 
patriotic that they might play in the new 
tent. They put their largest flag up on the 







54 


top of it and then Billy played his drum in 
front of it and Betty dressed her boy doll as 
a soldier and stood him up outside. But these 
plays did not last for very long. And they 
did not seem exciting enough for the Fourth 
of July. 

Dinner time came and then it was after¬ 
noon. Suddenly strange things began to 
happen to Betty and Billy. They were down 
in the orchard when they heard a sorrowful 
whining from the garden. Betty ran to see 
what was the matter and there, at the door 
of the tent, was a lame dog. He had tried 
to follow the parade that morning and had 
hurt his foot on a stone. And there he was 
waiting to be helped, just as if he knew that 
the Fourth of July tent had not been used. 

So Betty and Billy washed the dog’s cut 
foot and bound it up with a clean bandage 
and he wagged his tail in thanks and went 
home. 



55 




Was a Lame Dog 


“If only something else exciting would hap¬ 
pen!” Betty said as they watched the dog 
until he was out of sight. Just then they 
heard a voice at the back of the tent. 

“I wonder if I might have a glass of water,” 
asked an old soldier, tired and dusty and 
warm, “I had to drop out of the parade be¬ 
cause of the heat.” 




56 


“Yes, indeed!” said Betty. 

“Right here in our new tent, sir,” said Billy. 

So the old soldier sat inside the tent which 
was cool and he enjoyed the glass of milk and 
the sandwich which Betty brought out to him. 

Later in the afternoon mother made some 
pink lemonade and frosted, small white cakes 
and set a Fourth of July feast on a table with 
red and blue flowers in the center of the tent. 
And just as Betty and Billy sat down to en¬ 
joy it, they saw a wistful face looking at 
them over the top of their gate. 

“It is that new little boy, Pierre, who has 
just come to live in our neighborhood,” said 
Betty. 

Billy ran out and opened the gate. “Come 
in, Pierre,” he said, “and share our Fourth 
of July tent.” 

The eyes of the little stranger boy shone 
and the stars in the flag that waved on the 
top of the tent seemed to shine too in the 



57 


setting sun that afternoon. The Fourth of 
July tent, Billy and Betty had found out, 
could keep Fourth of July very well through 
its hospitality, and without the help of a sin¬ 
gle torpedo or firecracker. 

From “Wonderful Tree” —Carolyn Sherwin Bailey. 





THE FIRECRACKER THAT WENT 
OFF 

It was larger than a cannon cracker but 
it was a very safe one. Vivian, who lived next 
door to Billy and was his very good play¬ 
mate, had been ill. Now that summer had 
come Vivian was better, but only able to sit 
quietly on the piazza. Billy planned all sorts 


58 




59 


of fun for her, winding flower wreaths, races 
shelling green peas, making paper boats to 
sail in a tin tub of water. Now he had made 
the great firecracker for a surprise for Vivian 
on the morning of the Fourth of July. 

It was made of the largest cardboard roll 
that Billy had been able to glue in shape. 
It was covered with bright red flannel that 
Billy’s mother had helped him stretch over the 
cardboard. It stood up in Billy’s tent in 
the back yard, safely hidden from Vivian’s 
window and the top of it was covered with 
the red cloth all except its twine fuse. Many 
nice gifts were going to be put in Vivian’s 
firecracker, a package of homemade cookies, 
some rolls of bright cloth for making dolls’ 
dresses, the new little doll herself and a bright 
silk flag. 

But when Billy went out to the tent early 
in the morning of the Fourth with these 
gifts in his hands, his eyes opened wide and he 
nearly dropped the gifts. The great fire- 



60 


cracker was gone. Yes, it was altogether 
gone! The great red firecracker might have 
gone through the earth to China. Billy 
hunted from the sloping lawn of the back 
garden to the street outside but the firecracker 
was not to be found. 

Vivian came out soon and was made com¬ 
fortable on the piazza in her steamer chair 
and Billy was so disappointed that his sur¬ 
prise was spoiled. He wrapped the cookies 
and the rolls of cloth and the little doll and 
the silk flag in some red, white and blue 
paper. Right after Vivian came out Billy 
took the package over to her and Vivian’s 
eyes were as bright as the sparks from sky¬ 
rockets as she thanked him. But Billy wanted 
her to know all. 

“I had a great, big red firecracker for you, 
too, Vivian,” he told her, “but I wasn’t able 
to keep it. It went off!” He was going to 
tell Vivian how he had made it and the mys- 



61 


tery about its disappearing 1 , but Vivian’s eyes 
suddenly clouded. 

“I thought, Billy,” she told him, “that you 
were one of the nicest boys in this town, but 
I see now that you are not. I am so sorry!” 

Billy was puzzled. He thought that Vivian 
was feeling cross because she couldn’t have 
the firecracker as well as the gifts too. Some 
girls, he knew, would be like that. So he 
spoke a little crossly. 

“I couldn’t help it. It just went off all by 
itself. I couldn’t keep it for you.” He 
thought that now he would not explain any 
more about the strange firecracker to Vivian. 
And the day was spoiled for the two. The 
little girl looked sorrowfully at her friend 
and at last Billy went home to weed his gar¬ 
den where the beans were too thick. He did 
not even care to go down to the town park 
where there was a band and fireworks for 
Fourth of July. 




62 ( j 11IirailIIII ^^ 

It was near the end of the afternoon when 
Billy, looking up from his neat rows of beans, 
had a bright idea. 

“I believe I made a mistake in not telling 
Vivian that was a home made firecracker,” he 
said to himself. “She thought that I had 
meant a real firecracker that explodes. Of 
course Vivian thought that I had set it 
off early this morning and that is against the 
laws of our town.” 

But even as this thought came to Billy his 
face grew sober again. 

“Vivian ought to know that I keep the 
law,” he said to himself. “She ought to have 
kept her temper and let me tell her all about 
the firecracker.” And so it happened that 
Billy did not go across to Vivian’s house 
when he heard her calling him a little later. 

But Vivian kept on calling. And Billy 
could hear the voices of other children laugh¬ 
ing about Vivian’s merry voice. Then he 



63 



He U All Worn Out 


heard Dandy, his terrier pup barking. Why, 
although Billy had not stopped to think of it, 
Dandy had not been around all day. 

“Billy, oh, Billy, such a joke! Do come 
on over!” Vivian called, so at last Billy went. 

It was a joke! Sitting in Vivian’s lap was 
Dandy, but a very sober, tired small dog. His 
tongue hung out of his mouth and he looked 
as if he were an unwilling little clown dog. 
He was all wound up in what was left of the 
great, home made firecracker which was 




64 


around his body like a red cage. Only his 
four wriggling legs were free. 

“What did you do to Dandy?” Vivian 
asked. “Your grandfather was making a 
speech in the park and Dandy nearly spoiled 
it by running up to the grand stand all 
dressed up like a firecracker. The children 
brought him here to show to me. He is all 
worn out trying to celebrate Fourth of July 
and so warm, poor little fellow! Why did 
you put a firecracker on Dandy, Billy?” 

“I didn’t,” Billy told her when he was able 
to stop laughing. Then he told Vivian all 
about the firecracker he had made for her 
and how it had disappeared. “I made the 
fuse out of twine that was wrapped around 
a package from the butcher’s,” he said, “and 
Dandy must have smelled it and gone inside 
the firecracker and then not been able to get 
out. He was frightened and just ran away 
with the firecracker.” 




65 


Vivian laughed too as they unwrapped the 
tired little dog. Then she held out her hand 
to Billy. “I am sorry,” she said, “that I didn’t 
trust you, Billy. I am glad that it was Dandy 
and not you who made our firecracker go off.” 

From “Wonderful Tree” —Carolyn Sherwin Bailey. 



5 




I 



THE MAN WHO KNEW LINCOLN 

Bob was really quite well of his mumps, but 
he could not go to school yet. There was a rule 
about the length of time children who had 
been ill with mumps must stay home. And 
this time covered Lincoln’s birthday. That 
was too bad, for the primary children were 
going to have such a good time. Bob heard 
about it when the other boys and girls came 
home and told him across his front fence. 

“We are going to march with the big flag,” 
they said, “and have a drill up in the assembly 
room and sing. And,” they kept the news 


66 






They Were Going to Have a Good Time 








































































68 


until the last, “a man who knew Lincoln is 
going to talk to us!” 

It was almost more than Bob could stand. 
On the morning of Lincoln’s birthday he felt 
quite like crying. But so many things hap¬ 
pened at home that he couldn’t take the time. 

In the first place, old great-uncle John 
came unexpectedly with his great old leather 
bag and he wanted a fire in the guest room. 
It was a chilly kind of day. And mother was 
too busy looking after Sister and cooking to 
do very much else. So Bob, who could go out¬ 
doors as well as not, the doctor said, came to 
the rescue. He sharpened his hatchet and cut 
kindlings and brought in enough logs so 
great-uncle John could have a rousing fire all 
day. He hadn’t unpacked yet, and he told 
Bob he had saved him from the rheumatism. 

Then the groceries didn’t come so Bob went 
down to the store to see what was the matter. 
“If you would rather not, Mr. Stebbins,” Bob 



said to the grocer, “I won’t come in. I have 
had the mumps, but the doctor says I am well.” 

The grocer laughed. “I had the mumps 
when I was a little boy,” he said, “and I would 
almost be willing to have them over again if 
I could get a boy to help me. Your mother’s 
order has just gone. It ought to be there now, 
but I am behind with all these orders. My de¬ 
livery boy is taking a holiday.” 

“I can carry some of the orders for you, Mr. 
Stebbins,” Bob told him. “I’m not going to 
the celebration.” He took a couple of baskets 
and was off. It was a busy day in the kitchens 
and everyone was glad to see Bob coming with 
the sugar and eggs and spices. He worked for 
the grocer until late in the afternoon and then 
he started home. The celebration would be 
over at school and Bob was tired, but he had 
a shining quarter in his pocket in payment 
for his work. 

When he came home, he had a great sur¬ 
prise. He thought at first that he must have 



70 


been dreaming, for a strange man dressed in 
the uniform of old war days sat in the living 
room with Sister in his lap. The soldier was 
telling Sister about Lincoln. 

“He split wood for his mother when he was 
a boy, and he worked in a grocery store, carry¬ 
ing home things until late every day. You see 
I knew Lincoln. I went to war when he was 
president,” the man was saying. 

But Bob knew the voice. Why, this was 
great uncle John! Bob had never known 
these wonderful things about him. His uni¬ 
form, his old canteen, his knapsack and his 
army pistol must have been in his bag right 
up there in the guest room. 

Just then great uncle John spied Bob. 
“Well, sonny,” he said, “I missed you in 
school. I told the children how I knew 
Lincoln, but I didn’t see you anywhere.” 

“I had to split wood and help the grocer,” 
Bob began, and then he stopped, for he had a 




“I Had to Split Wood and Help the Grocer ” Bob 


Began 















72 

fiiiiiitiiiiiuiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiuitiiiiiiiiiiiiiimiiiiiiiiiitmiiiiiiiiiiiiimiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimiiiimmiiiiiiiiiiiMiiiiiiiimiiimiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimimiiiiiimiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii 


nice thought. The same thought came to 
great uncle John at the same time. “You were 
having a Lincoln’s birthday celebration all by 
yourself, weren’t you?” he said. 

That was true. Like the great man whose 
birthday it was, Bob had been trying to do 
the small things that came, in a big way, with¬ 
out complaining. And such an end to the day! 
A man who had known Lincoln right in their 
house! 

From “Lincoln Time Stories” —Carolyn Sherwin Bailey. 




A LITTLE HISTORY OF 
WASHINGTON 

George Washington, the first president of 
the United States, was born in Westmoreland 
County, Virginia, Feb. 22, 1732. 

He was the son of Augustine Washington 
and his second wife, Mary Ball. Augustine 
Washington was a widower with two sons ? 
when Mary Ball married him. These two sons,! 
Lawrence and Augustine were very fine boys, 
the elder one being 14 years of age. 


73 


74 


When George was born, the family lived in 
a home on the banks of the Potomac River. It 
was a very modest dwelling, but it ranked 
among the best farm-houses in Virginia at that 
time. There were four rooms and an attic, 
with a very large chimney at each end. On 
the river front was a piazza. 

There were many men and women servants. 
The home was surrounded by green tobacco 
fields and flowery meadows, and there were 
many bams and storehouses and sheds about 
it. 

Of course, George Washington did not have 
the same kind of a childhood that city boys 
and girls have. There were no toy-shops in 
his time, and there were no candy stores. 
George did not even have neighbor boys to 
play with. But he played with his younger 
brothers and sister. And he made playmates 
of the horses, cattle, sheep and dogs that were 
on the farm. 











George Washington 























76 


He played out of doors all the time and grew 
very strong. He went fishing and swimming 
in the river; he ran races and jumped fences 
with his brothers and the dogs; he threw 
stones across the brooks. 

He made a little humming-top that he liked 
to play with. His father had given him a pony 
named “Hero” that he loved very much. He 
rode Hero all about the plantation. 

The first playmate he had, outside of his 
own family, was a cousin whose name was the 
same as his half-brother—Lawrence Washing¬ 
ton. He and his brother Robert Washington 
lived at Choptank on the Potomac River. 

George used to visit these two boys, whom 
he called Lai and Bob, very often. On visits 
to these two he learned many new things. 

He learned about the traffic between foreign 
countries. He saw the foreign ships come in. 
They brought goods that the Virginians 
needed. The captains of these ships sold the 






His Father Had Given Him a Pony 































78 


goods for tobacco notes, as that was the kind 
of money that was used. 

There were no good schools in Virginia at 
that time. The richest families would send 
their sons to England to be educated in the 
schools over there. 

George Washington’s father, when a young 
man, had received his training at Appleby 
School in England. 

His half-brothers, Lawrence and Augustine, 
who were several years older than George, had 
been sent to the same school. 

George’s first teacher was Master Hobby. 
He was not a very good teacher, but was the 
only one available. George learned to spell 
easy words, and perhaps to write a little. He 
also learned a little about arithmetic, but not 
very much. 

The school-house was a log building that 
stood in an old field. It was called the “field 



79 


school.” George used to ride to school on his 
pony. 

George got most of his instruction from his 
father who was very anxious that he should 
have a good education. His father also taught 
him other kinds of lessons, so that he would 
grow up to be a good citizen. 

One of the most important of his teachings 
was that George should be truthful. George 
remembered this instruction. He was always 
honest as a boy. He never took advantage of 
his playmates and he could not be tempted to 
tell a lie. He was a natural-born leader in his 
youth. 

When George Washington was eleven years 
old his father died. The devotion of his mother 
to her children, and her tender instruction 
more than made up for this great loss. 

Mrs. Washington’s two stepsons, Lawrence 
and Augustine, now grown to manhood, also 
lived with her. They were both well-educated 
and very well-mannered. 



80 


So George’s mother had a large family to 
direct. There were four children younger than 
George—Betty, Samuel, John and Charles. 
She taught these children at her knee; she also 
had private tutors for them. 

In addition to her household duties and the 
care and education of her children, Mrs. 
Washington also managed her farm. Her step¬ 
son, Lawrence, gave her advice about matters 
relating to the plantation. 

Wool, flax, tobacco and corn were raised on 
the plantation; carding and spinning wool 
were carried on in the house. 

Lawrence was married to Miss Fairfax two 
months after his father died. He went to 
Mount Vernon to live. Both Lawrence and his 
wife felt a deep affection for George and he 
was a favorite at their home. Lawrence treated 
him like a son, and George was under his 
brother’s roof much of the time. 

Here and at Belvoir, the elegant home of Sir 
Fairfax, George enjoyed the advantage of re- 



81 


fined surroundings. He observed the manners 
of his brother and the Fairfax family and tried 
to follow the good example set to him. 

At the age of thirteen, he wrote out for his 
own use 110 maxims of civility and good be¬ 
havior. The following are some of these rules: 

“Think before you speak; pronounce not 
imperfectly, nor bring out your words too 
hastily, but orderly and distinctly.” 

“Be not curious to know the affairs of 
others.” 

“Speak not evil of the absent; for it is un¬ 
just.” 

“Make no show of taking great delight in 
your victuals; feed not with greediness; lean 
not on the table; neither find fault with what 
you eat.” 

“Be not angry at table, whatever happens; 
and, if you have reason to be so, show it not. 
Put on a cheerful countenance, especially if 
there be strangers; for good-humor makes one 
dish of meat a feast.” 



82 


At the age of sixteen years, George became 
a surveyor for William Fairfax, the manager 
of the estate of Lord Fairfax. He was engaged 
in this work for three years and endured many 
hardships and dangers. He slept on the 
ground in the open air, shot wild game for 
food and in this manner became a sturdy 
young man. He grew to be six feet two inches 
in height, and had the strength of a giant. 

From “Washington’s Boyhood” — Ida C. Mirriam. 






THE BOY WHO DID NOT KNOW 
THE FLAG 

The Man-Who-Knew-Lincoln could tell 
stories about the Civil War, and before he 
went away from Bob’s house he told him all 
about a little boy way down in Tennessee who 
had never seen the Stars and Stripes. 

“It was in a little town called Normandy,” 
he began, “in the mountains, and way, way 
off with only a small store and a smaller 

83 



84 


blacksmith shop and ever so many wild dogs 
and rough little boys. And the Army of the 
Union had to stop there, for we were all tired 
out trying to march to Georgia and the 
soldiers were going to make bread. Yes, sir,” 
said the Man-Who-Knew-Lincoln, “there was 
a lot beside fighting to do for the regiment. 

“So we stopped just outside Normandy and 
set up the tents with the Stars and Stripes 
flying, and the masons of the regiment tore 
down an old house and built a big oven with 
the bricks. It was a big, wide, old fashioned 
oven such as my grandmother used. You 
never saw one like it. And then the carpenters 
of the regiment took the old boards of the 
house and made bread trays and mixing 
troughs and moulding boards. 

“Then I helped the other soldiers bring water 
from a spring and mix it with our flour into 
dough. After that we moulded it and baked 
the loaves brown and crisp in the brick oven. 




85 


Every morning each soldier in the regiment 
had a loaf of fresh bread, all the same size. 
And there was enough baking done to pro¬ 
vide bread for the march. 

“Well, just before we broke camp there at 
Normandy a little village boy came with a 
pack of fierce hounds and was going to try and 
steal some bread for himself and his dogs. He 
looked as if he needed it, and so did the dogs, 
thin, half starved creatures. And the soldiers 
brought the boy into camp, for they had never 
seen a little boy so wild and ragged and yet 
so brave. He had tried to set his dogs on the 
sentinel and was not one bit afraid when he 
was brought right up to the tent where the 
colonel of the regiment sat under the Stars and 
Stripes with his sword across his lap. No one 
was going to hurt that little southern boy, 
but the colonel wanted to see him. 

“But the boy did not pay a bit of attention 
to anything but the flag. It was a large flag 
that had been in battles. It was torn and 





burned in spots, but its colors were bright. 
There it waved above him, the flag of his 
country. 

“ ‘Whose flag is that?’ the little Tennessee 
boy asked in a voice full of wonder, ‘I reckon 
I never saw such a pretty piece of blue color as 
that in the corner of it, with all those stars. 
What’s that piece of blue in your flag for?’ 

“Our colonel of the regiment didn’t say 
anything for a moment, for he was so much 
taken aback. The soldiers stood around sur¬ 
prised too. Here the Union was at war with 
itself, brothers fighting brothers, and a fair 
land being spoiled with gun powder, and back 
there in the Tennessee mountains they hadn’t 
ever seen our flag! Maybe that was the reason 
the fighting was going on, because they didn’t 
know what Old Glory waved for. 

“So our colonel called the little Tennessee 
boy to him and we soldiers kept his wild dogs 
off while the boy heard all about his flag. He 




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88 


heard how the red stripes stood for our coun¬ 
try’s courage, and the white for its purity, and 
the blue was for being true to the right. And 
the boy was most pleased to hear about the 
blue, the patch of it with stars in the corner, 
for that was what took his eye most of all. 
And when the colonel told him that it was his 
flag, you ought to have seen his eyes stick out. 
He had very little of his own, hardly enough 
to eat, there in his mountain town. But it 
made him feel proud to know that he had a 
flag. 

“We fed his dogs and gave him some fresh 
bread to take home, and he was the friend of 
the Army until we started on toward Georgia. 
Almost every day that boy came out to our 
camp to look at the flag and we never thought 
of him as the boy of an enemy. He was just 
a little fellow who had never seen the flag. 

“Then we joined General Grant and fought 
with Sherman, farther toward the sea, but we 
never forgot that boy back in Tennessee. We 




89 

always wondered if there were not others who 
did not know the Stars and Stripes, who would 
have loved the blue and the stars as he did,” 
said the Man-Who-Knew-Lincoln. 

From, “Lincoln Time Stories” —Carolyn Sherwin Bailey. 





THE SWORD’S STORY 

“Your sword is rusty, Great-uncle John,” 
Bob said as the Man-Who-Knew-Lincoln was 
packing his bag ready to go home. 

“I know it,” he said, “and there is a story 
about that.” 

“Oh, is there time for it?” Bob asked. 

“It’s short, and good for today,” the Man- 
Who-Knew-Lincoln said, laying his sword 
in his lap. “It begins with a birthday party. 


90 



91 


“You see, when the war was all over, there 
was a great deal of planting and making 
things and inventing things to be done in the 
Union. War always sets a country back, so 
we all went to work hard, and when we were 
one hundred years old according to our inde¬ 
pendence, we had what we called a Centen¬ 
nial celebration in a big green park in Phila¬ 
delphia. But it was really America’s birthday 
party. 

“All the nations of the world came or sent 
exhibits to it. You would have had a fine time 
looking at the carved ivories from India, the 
first popped com from our west, the queer lit¬ 
tle locomotives we were using, the wax figures 
of minute men of the Revolution, the Chinese 
fans and toys, the new carpet looms, and our 
press for printing stamps for letters. I can’t 
tell you one-quarter of all the wonderful and 
odd exhibits at the Centennial. 

“We had a family of acrobats, and among 
them a little boy who went up over the 



92 


grounds every day in a balloon. That was 
something very new, and always drew a 
crowd. But what I was going to tell you 
wasn’t about balloons or popped com. It was 
the story of a sword as a school child had 
Written it, and it was hung up on the wall of 
one of the Centennial buildings. People stood 
in front of it all day reading it. 

“This child’s story was told by a sword it¬ 
self who lived in the first place deep down un¬ 
der a mountain in a mine. It was dark there 
and the sword felt as if it would like to see the 
light. One day it was dug up in a piece of 
metal, tempered, and shaped into a soldier’s 
blade. It felt bright and shining then. It 
started out to fight for the man and win him 
honor and glory. 

“It was a sharp, strong sword and it did its 
work well, but wherever it went, instead of see¬ 
ing the light, the sword seemed to bring on a 
storm. It was almost as bad as being hidden 





People Stood in Front of It All Day Reading It 






































94 


down under the ground in a mine. Clashing 
against other swords, this one that was telling 
its story, made lightning. All about it was the 
thunder of great guns and the fire of their 
powder. It was important to fight, this sword 
knew, but before it was through, it began to 
think of itself, not as bright and shining, but 
as a very frightful creature. It was not at all 
pleased with itself. 

“But presently the war was over. A place 
was found for the sword in a sheath of leather 
and it was hung on the wall of the soldier’s 
house. It grew rusty, but it felt better pleased 
with its peaceful life than it had with its fight¬ 
ing, and it asked a quill pen who lived in an 
ink stand near by to write its story for our 
Centennial. The pen did this, and there was 
the little girl’s sword composition in a place of 
honor at our country’s birthday party. 

“There was hardly anything there that was 
more interesting,” the Man-Who-Knew-Lin- 
coln ended. “Every sword wants to win its 



95 


battle, if it must, but a rusty sword can be 
proud of itself too. 

“It could dig weeds, or make furrows for 
planting,” Bob said, touching the old sword 
with a new interest. 

“Or keep off new wars by telling the story 
of its own fights,” said the Man-Who-Knew- 
Lincoln, as he went on with his packing. 
“ ‘Don’t let it happen again!’ That’s what my 
sword says.” 

From “Lincoln Time Stories” —Carolyn Sherwin Bailey. 








STAY-AT-HOME SOLDIER 

Great-Grandfather’s little red drum hung in 
a place of honor in the farm house. He had 
been a drummer boy in the Civil War, a boy 
no older than John, when he had strapped on 
that drum and gone with the regiment. 


96 


97 


John knew that it was still a good drum, for 
he had carried it in the parade when the Feed¬ 
ing Hills boys decided to go to France. There 
was a World War and a camp for training 
soldiers near the farm at Feeding Hills, the 
farm that had been Great-Grandfather’s. John 
longed with all his heart to go with the new 
regiment, beating the old drum, and telling 
France that America had come. 

But as John thought about it and planned 
to run away, perhaps, for that was what Great- 
Grandfather had done when he joined the 
army as a drummer boy, this other boy of the 
World War worked. 

There was ever so much to do on the farm, 
short of men as they were. 

In the spring there was the winter wheat to 
cut, and soon after that the haying began. The 
horses at the training camp needed so much 
hay, and wheat flour must be sent on the great 
ships that were carrying food to Europe. Then 

7 




98 


the seed potatoes had to be put in, and there 
were always odd jobs for John. He took all 
the care of the chickens, and bedded stalls in 
the barn. He helped mother plant and tend 
the garden. He had no time to even lift down 
the old drum. 

But as John worked, he often heard a pat¬ 
ter and thud of horses’ hoofs on the road in 
front of the barn. Looking up he would see 
the soldiers riding by. Then he would salute 
them, and once an officer had stopped for a 
drink of their clear, cool well water. How 
brave and gallant he looked in his new uni¬ 
form. 

“Will you need a drummer boy for the Feed¬ 
ing Hills regiment?” John asked, but the of¬ 
ficer only laughed as he patted him on his 
head. “What we need most is regulars,” he 
said, “regular soldiers to show that America 
has come.” 



99 


So John began to feel very much discour¬ 
aged. He felt as if he were not keeping up 
the honor of the family. Father had gone to 
France the year before and mother was keep¬ 
ing the farm going with the help of two old 
men from the village. But John wanted to go. 
He wanted to beat that red drum, and with 
every beat tell the world what it means to be 
an American. 

Every day made his chance slimmer, 
though. The training camp emptied. No one 
knew when the regiment went, but one morn¬ 
ing it was gone. The farm was quiet, but 
there was a great deal of work to do. Food, 
food, that was the call at all the farms that 
lay among their fields of grain. And John 
did his best to help raise food for the army. 

For days there were no troops to be seen on 
the road. But one day, as John was raking 
up the chaff at the barn door, thud, thud, came 
again the beat of horses’ hoofs. He looked out 





100 


at two soldiers riding by. Why, one of them 
was an officer, John saw, the one who had 
asked for a drink and told him that he wasn’t 
needed as a drummer boy. 

The officer, too, remembered John. For an 
instant he drew rein and waved his hand to 
the boy in overalls there in the barn door. 

“Good-bye, Stay-At-Home Soldier,” called 
the officer. “Hold that rake as tightly as if it 
were a musket, for it’s quite as useful!” Then 
he was off in a cloud of dust. 

John watched him until the road was white 
and still again in its sunlight. What a sur¬ 
prise that had been, to be called a soldier by 
an officer whose word could be trusted! Very 
likely times were changed from the days when 
boys could drum with the regiment. He could 
fight a battle every day with the weeds and 
shoulder his hoe like a gun and help raise 
food for father and the others so far away in 
France. 





To Be Called a Soldier by an Officer 











































































































































































































102 


Stay-At-Home Soldier! That was a fine 
title, John thought. He would go on helping 
mother and the old red drum would keep up 
his courage and the honor of his family, just 
as well as if he had hung it around his neck. 

From “Lincoln Time Stories” —Carolyn Sherwin Bailey. 





Twittered a Call to Louis 


FRANZ’ LAST LESSON 

Louis, a little boy of beautiful Alsace, was 
not listening to the alphabet which his good 
grand-mere was teaching to him in the gar¬ 
den. The sun was warm and the birds, drink¬ 
ing at the pump, twittered a call to Louis to 


103 


104 


go with them to the meadows. Louis’ book 
almost dropped from his hands. He was think¬ 
ing, not of his A B C’s, but of play. 

“Fie upon you, Louis!” said his grand-mere. 
“You are like little Franz who did not want to 
leam the language of our Alsace so many 
years ago.” 

“Franz? Who was he, Grand-mere?” asked 
Louis. A story, he thought, would be better 
than saying over and over the letters of the 
dull alphabet. 

“He was a young Alsatian boy of many 
years ago, was little Franz,” said Grand-mere, 
“and one morning just like this, when the sun 
was shining warmly and the blackbirds were 
calling across the grain fields, Franz was on 
his way to school. The school was kept by 
the kind old schoolmaster, Monsieur Hamel, 
who had sat at his desk so many years that the 
walnut tree in the school yard, once a stripling, 
was now bearing nuts, and the hop vine had 
climbed to the roof. 



105 


“But little Franz was like you, my Louis, 
careless of his letters, and he took his way 
slowly across the fields and by the longest 
way. He was already late, but still he did not 
hurry. Suddenly Franz heard a loud drum¬ 
ming from the parade ground of the Prussians, 
for at that time our Alsace was in the hands of 
enemies. 

“Boom-boom, went the guns more loudly 
than Franz had ever heard them before. And 
as he came to the gate of the school the town 
blacksmith was putting up a sign which Franz 
could not read, because it was written in the 
language of the Prussians. The blacksmith 
looked very sad. Franz went into school then, 
expecting that the teacher would scold him 
for being so late.” 

“And did Monsieur Hamel scold little 
Franz?” Louis asked. 

“No,” said his grand-mere. “Little Franz 
took his seat on the bench, and the school 



106 


room was so quiet that he could hear the hum¬ 
ming of the insects in the garden outside. The 
children sat still and with folded hands. At 
the back of the room sat a row of the oldest 
men of the village, the mayor, the letter car¬ 
rier, and some old soldiers. And the carrier 
had his old French primer open in his lap, say¬ 
ing over and over to himself, the lessons he 
had neglected to learn when he was a little 
boy. 

“But the strangest part of it all to Franz 
was the appearance of Monsieur Hamel. He 
wore his best green broadcloth suit and his 
white ruffled shirt and a black tie. He stood 
before the children and spoke to them, his 
face full of sorrow. 

“The teacher told them that this was to be 
their last lesson in French. The notice pinned 
up on the gate said that a new teacher from 
Berlin was coming to their village and they 
were to learn only the language of the Prus¬ 
sians in their school, the language of their 



107 


enemies. And he said that he wished the chil¬ 
dren had been more diligent in learning their 
primer lessons, for the French language 
seemed to him the most beautiful language of 
all. 

“So little Franz opened his book and read 
with the others and they worked harder over 
the letters and words than they ever had be¬ 
fore. They could hear the old soldiers, the 
mayor of their village and the letter carrier 
reading, too, from a bench at the back of the 
room. And the French lesson books seemed to 
all in the school room more precious than fairy 
tales. 

“Suddenly there was a crash of trumpets. It 
came from the parade ground of the Prussians. 
It was a signal to close the school, for Mon¬ 
sieur Hamel, who had taught the children so 
many years, to close his desk and lock the door 
behind him, giving the key to the new teacher. 
But he waited for only a moment. He went 




108 


to the blackboard and wrote on it in large 
flowing letters the motto of the French: 

“ ‘Long live our Country!’ 

“It was little Franz’ last lesson in French.” 

“Oh, Grand-mere!” said Louis, “but not 
mine, is it? Our country is living and happy, 
and I will learn my lessons well, and now.” 

Louis’ grand-mere smiled. “Yes, my Louis,” 
she said, “that was a story of long ago, but it 
is always best for a boy to learn to read as 
soon as he can. That makes him a good 
countryman, wherever he lives.” 

From “Lincoln Time Stories” —Carolyn Sherwin Bailey. 









PAUL REVERE, AMERICAN 
PATRIOT 

“So through the night rode Paul Revere, 

And so through the night went his cry of alarm 
To every Middlesex village and farm— 

A cry of defiance and not of fear.” 

So Longfellow wrote about Paul Revere, an 
American hero, dear to the heart of every boy, 
and an inspiration to the patriotic young man. 


100 


110 


Few Americans have had a more beautiful 
tribute paid them than has been given to Paul 
Revere in the poem written about him by 
Longfellow. 

Paul Revere was bom the first of January, 
1735, in Boston, Massachusetts. He grew up 
in the atmosphere and times that made staunch 
patriots of every noble man. When other boys 
hardly knew the meaning of country, this 
small boy’s heart was beating with love for his. 
After finishing his school education, Paul 
began studying to be an engraver, and later 
had the honor of engraving and printing the 
first paper currency in Massachusetts. 

When Paul Revere was a young man, the 
colonists rebelled at the tax the English put 
on their imports. At last the English govern¬ 
ment became alarmed at the way the colonists 
were acting, and rescinded the taxes on every¬ 
thing except tea. At Charleston the tea was 
taken from the English ships and stored in 
damp cellars, where it soon spoiled. Finding 




Ill 


that the colonists refused to buy the tea, the 
British had their ships at New York and 
Philadelphia sent back to England, but the 
authorities refused to let the tea ships at 
Boston return. When the Boston men heard 
about this, they called a patriotic meeting, and 
Paul Revere was one of the leaders. It was 
decided that the tea should never be brought 
ashore. The night of December 16, 1773, a 
number of patriots, disguised as Indians, 
boarded the vessels and emptied three hundred 
and forty-two chests of tea into the water. 
Paul Revere was one of the most enthusiastic 
of the leaders and workers. 

On their way home from the famous “Bos¬ 
ton Tea Party,” as this expedition has ever 
afterward been called, Admiral Montague, a 
prominent British leader, was visiting at a 
friend’s house, and, hearing the men come, 
raised a window. 

“Well, boys, you have had a fine night for 



112 


your Indian caper,” he laughed. “But, mind, 
you’ve got to pay the fiddler yet.” 

“Oh, never mind,” replied one of the patri¬ 
ots, “never mind, Squire! Just come out here, 
if you please, and we’ll settle the bill in two 
minutes.” The admiral probably thought it 
best to let things be, and he quickly put down 
the window. 

Soon after the Tea Party the patriots of 
Boston formed a league, known as the Boston 
League, who pledged themselves to watch 
every movement of the British. Again Paul 
Revere showed the glowing patriotism in his 
heart by becoming a member of the league. 

On the eighteenth of April, 1775, General 
Gage, a noted British general, mustered eight 
hundred men whom he ordered to march to 
Concord, which is twenty miles from Boston, 
and destroy some military stores. And after 
that to go on to Lexington and destroy other 
military supplies, and arrest the “arch rebels,” 





:8 














114 


John Hancock and Samuel Adams. His plan 
was at once suspected by members of the 
Boston League, and it was to circumvent the 
British that Paul Revere made his famous 
ride. The daring patriot rode from Charleston 
to Lexington, rousing the country to arms, 
and, according to Longfellow— 

“Said to his friend: ‘If the British march 
By land or sea from the town tonight, 

Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch 

Of the North Church tower as a signal light; 

One if by land and two if by sea, 

And I on the opposite shore shall be. 

Ready to ride and spread the alarm 

Through every Middlesex village and farm. 

For the country-folk to be up and to arm’.” 

The countryside was aroused, and when 
Gage’s men reached Lexington they were con¬ 
fronted by armed men, and the first shot of 
the Revolutionary War was fired. Marching 
to Concord, the British found more armed 
men, and the military supplies all removed. 
Paul Revere was taken a captive, but was soon 
released. 



115 


This great American patriot died in Boston 
in 1818, and the house in which he lived is 
still standing. 

—Lena C. Ahlers 





Almost Any Large Dictionary 


MAKING A FLAG GAME 

In the back pages of almost any large dic¬ 
tionary you will find colored pictures of the 
flags df all the different nations. You will be 
surprised to see how many there are of these, 
and how different they all are in design and 
coloring. Some day when it rains you can 
have a very good time copying these to make 
a splendid flag game. 


116 


117 


Draw oblongs of the size that you want the 
flags to be with a ruler and pencil on some 
light weight cardboard. A very good material 
for making the stripes and other designs will 
be heavy tissue paper, and you are likely to 
have a number of scraps of this in just the 
shades that you will need. 

Study the designs of the flags in the diction¬ 
ary carefully and then paste them, designed 
with the colored paper, on your cardboard 
oblongs. It will be a good plan to put them 
under some books to press for a while so that 
the paste may dry thoroughly. Then cut very 
neatly on the pencil line with which you 
marked the oblong and the flags are finished. 

It is a very simple matter to make them into 
a game. On the white side of each flag draw 
some lines with a pencil that divide it into 
halves or quarters. Then cut on these lines, 
making the flags into a kind of picture puzzle. 
You can keep these pieces all in a box, and 
play a game with them when you have com- 





118 

iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiMiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiHimiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimiiiiutiiiiiiniiiiiintiiniiitii 

pany by drawing from it in turn and seeing 
which player is able to make the most flags 
by putting the pieces together. 

From “All the Year Playgames” 


—Carolyn Sherwin Bailey. 









A Ntmber of Stiff Cards 


PLAYING AMERICA FIRST 

This is going to be two kinds of fun, 
because it is something to make on a rainy 
day, and something to play a game with too. 

You will need quite a number of stiff cards, 
all of the same size. These are to be had at the 
shops where stationery is sold and mother will 
get you a package when you tell her all about 
the fun they will give you. They are the white 
cards which father puts in his box files at the 
office. 


119 



120 


Next, find all the small pictures that you 
can which make you think of our own United 
States. These will be pictures of the capitol, 
of soldiers, presidents, ships, the different forts, 
tents, Boy Scouts and Camp Fire Girls, our 
forests, lakes, rivers, big trees, and other things 
that make America great. You will find ever 
so many of these pictures in old magazines, 
newspapers, and catalogues. Cut them out 
neatly, mount them on the cards, and put 
these picture cards under a heavy weight to 
press. 

While they are pressing, paint or color a 
few cards with the Stars and Stripes. Then 
find a box in which to put the game of 
America First which you have made. 

A number of children can play it with you. 
Pile the cards, the picture side down, in the 
middle of a table, the children grouped around 
it. Each player, in turn, takes a card and 
turns the picture up in front of him. If it is 



121 


one of the pasted pictures, he does not say 
anything. If it is one of the flag pictures, he 
must shout, “America First,” before anyone 
else does. If he is not quick enough about this, 
the child who said, “America First,” before he 
did, gets all his cards, and the game is won by 
that player who gets all the cards at last. 

From “All the Year Playgames” —Carolyn Sherwin Bailey. 





FOURTH OF JULY FUN 

You may plan some Fourth of July games 
all yourself if you like, without mother’s help, 
even, and they will give all the children who 
come to your party a good time, indeed. 

Ever so many boys and girls made collec¬ 
tions of the beautiful posters that Uncle Sam 
issues. Perhaps you have one, a poster of a 


122 




123 


soldier, a sailor, a ship, or a child who did 
something patriotic to help the government. 

Cover the back of this poster with paste and 
mount it on a piece of heavier paper or on a 
backing of cotton cloth. It will be a good 
plan also to fasten a tape or a length of string 
to the top by which it may be hung. Then get 
a penny flag and stick a thumb tack through 
the handle. 

The children playing the game are blind¬ 
folded, one at a time, and walk up to the 
poster, which you have hung in the party 
room or out on the piazza, with the little flag 
in their hands. The game consists of trying 
to fasten it to the hand of the person in the 
poster or to the bow of the ship, which isn’t 
as easy as one would suppose. The prize for 
the child who succeeds may be a large flag. 

Another merry game is played with sugar 
almonds which you wrap up, before the party, 
in fringed red, white and blue tissue papers, 
so that they look just like fat torpedoes. One 




124 


of these sugar plums, though, is wrapped in 
gold paper, the color of a star. 

The children are seated in a circle and each 
one is given a candy torpedo, including the 
gold one. The child who is “It” stands in the 
center of the circle and counts, One, Two, 
Three. At Three, the children begin passing 
the torpedoes from one to another, their hands 
closed over them, so that the colors will be 
hidden. 

A child in the circle gives the signal to stop 
at the end of a certain length of time, and the 
center child tries to guess who holds the gold 
torpedo. If he is successful, he takes a place 
in the circle and the player who held it goes 
into the center. 


From “All the Year Playgames’ 


—Carolyn Shkrwin BaileYs 







A FOURTH OF JULY PARTY 

The Party Twins painted flags on one corner 
of cards they sent out as invitations and they 
contained the verse, 

One and all the children cry, 

“Hurrah, hurrah for the Fourth of July,” 

We will spend an hour together, 

So we’ll hope for pleasant weather. 


(Hour — ■place.) 


125 


126 

... 

The guests arriving were pleased to see flags 
everywhere. 

They played out-door games and among 
them the game of “Liberty Bell.” 

A large paper bell was placed on the ground 
and a child ran in from the circle they formed, 
naming a president, and another child did the 
same, and so on, each time touching the bell. 

They next played a “Flag Game.” 

The children are in two lines and they 
choose one to carry a flag and run between the 
lines saying. 

“How many stripes, how many stars 
In this beloved flag of ours?” 

The one at the north end of each line now 
skips round his line, returns to his place and 
names the correct number of stripes and stars 
in the flag as, 13 stripes, 48 stars, or goes out 
of the game. The second child from the north 
end of the line, next skips round, and so on, 
until every one has had a chance to name the 



127 



They Ran a Flag Race 


number of stars and stripes in the flag. The 
line having the most left in it, wins the game. 

A large firecracker is fastened to the ground 
and children throw hoops over it. The hoops 
are wrapped with red, white and blue muslin, 
the children all stand at an equal distance to 
throw, and the prize is a bag of peanuts. 

The children run a flag race. Two start with 
flags to a goal, the last one there selects a child 
to take his place in the next race. 





128 


Refreshments were ice cream cones bearing 
a tiny paper flag and cookies sprinkled with 
red and blue sugar. 

From “Party Twins” —Laura Rountree Smith. 







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